


Nighttime

by novelist_0xylotl



Category: 18th Century CE RPF
Genre: but the ghost is your future father-in-law's dead boyfriend, good ol ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novelist_0xylotl/pseuds/novelist_0xylotl
Summary: A young girl is awaken by a noise in the corridor. When she leaves her room to see, she finds a ghotly visitor from a time not so long ago.





	Nighttime

_Our longe bygone burdens, mere echoes of the Spring_

_But where have we come, and where shall we end?_

A distant noise at the corridor. Maria opened her eyes and peeked through the covers. The room was engulfed in darkness but for the shy moonlight behind the silk curtains. Her cousin was asleep on the bed beside hers, his back turned to her and snoring quietly. “George?” she called, to no answer. She got off the bed, still wrapped on the blankets, and opened the drawer looking for matches. Another noise, this one more distant than the previous, coming from the corridor. She lit the candle and walked towards the door, opening it carefully, hoping not to wake any of her family members. It wouldn’t be the first time she was caught snooping around the house in the dead of the night, and she wasn’t really looking forward to angering her aunt any more. It was freezing.

She kept walking, the floorboard creaking under her feet, the weak candlelight making the familiar mansion ever so sinister and hostile, almost unrecognizable. Another noise behind her. Heavy footsteps and the clanking of a sword. It was reminiscent of her uncle’s footsteps while wearing his military garb. The beating of her heart quickened. She turned and in front of was the ghostly body of a man wearing a deep blue uniform. She first noticed his face. He had blue eyes and honey blond hair, a strong jawline and a small scar on his left cheek. He was pale. So very pale and looked horribly exhausted. His entire self was muddy, with a large wound on his left shoulder bleeding and dripping onto the floor and turning the deep blue of his uniform into a dark purple. Despite that, his eyes were calm and his posture serene. He was familiar, like a memory from a time long lost. She’d seen that uniform before, though worn by a much less macabre character. Her uncle wore it, and so did many of his peers. A truly shocking contrast, from the kind man who read and sang to her, and to the lost soul keeping her awake at night. The air around him felt heavy, almost forcing her onto her knees. She retreated slowly, the ghostly visitor keeping her locked in a trance and unable to look away from him. She must’ve bumped into the end table and caused the clock above it to fall to the floor with a loud strike and break. She dropped the candle in fear and fell to the floor. He approached her and held out his hand, as if offering to help her up. She screamed and crawled away as fast as she could. She could feel her heart pounding on her throat and her breath so quick it almost caused her to faint. She crawled to the balcony door, guided by the moonlight, and sat outside trying to think, praying that the man wouldn’t follow her outside. “Maria?” a male voice called. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. It was her uncle. He was either awoken by Maria’s scream or the sound of her crawling her way across the second floor of the house, bumping and crashing into everything in her way. She hopped out of her hideout and ran towards his voice. He was standing in the corridor, wearing nothing but his nightshirt and a blanket, holding a candle in one hand a pistol in the other. He put the pistol and the candle on the end table and held her in his arms. “Shh. Tis’ fine. Tis’ fine.” he repeated. “What happened, poor lamb? You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost.” he asked. Her teary answer was muffled by the fabric of his sleeves. He pulled away so she could speak properly. “I…” she hesitated. She was afraid she would scare her uncle, or leave him fearing for her sanity. She swore what she saw was very real, but she couldn’t risk him not believing her. He sighed. “You do not need to tell me if don’t want to. I just need to know if you’re hurt.” he gazed at the broken clock next to the end table “You could’ve cut yourself. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” he asked, checking her arms and hands for bruises or cuts. She pulled them back. “I am well, uncle. I didn’t wake aunt Isabel, did I?” she asked. The last time she woke her aunt in the middle of the night she was mad at Maria for three whole days. “You may have.” he noticed Maria’s worried reaction at those words. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry.”. He held her to her room and tucked her back in her bed. George had somehow not been awoken by the screaming and falling just outside his room. “You need rest now, my dear. We’ll be visiting Mrs. Lincoln and her sons tomorrow. You know she holds you very close to her heart. We wouldn’t want to disappoint her.” he said, and walked away. He came back to the spot where the clock had broken and noticed something strange. There were reddish footprints leading towards his bedroom, but disappearing before reaching the door. It couldn’t have been an intruder since, unless they knew how to fly, there was no way of disappearing seemingly into a wall and leaving no tracks. He stepped into his room to find his wife still asleep despite the noise. He laid beside her and fell asleep thinking about the war. 

**Author's Note:**

> In ioh canon, this story is set in 1793, so technically Georges hasn't left France yet. But I'm the boss here and reality can be anything I want it to be.


End file.
